As I sat on the bus this morning, I got to thinking about the “why?” Everyday we swim, bike, run, attend yoga, pilates, physical therapy, spinning classes, or whatever physical activity we each decide to do that day. Some of us get up at 5:00am, sometimes earlier, or some of us wait until after work to release our fury on our activity of choice. It’s become part of our being. It’s like breathing—this desire to run during the sunrise, or bike indoors to the thoughts and songs of ourselves on our trainers.
The biggest and most important race of my life is a short 3 days away. During my runs, I have been left with plenty of time to think about my life, the life of others, and about life in general. I have worked harder towards this race than any other race I have done. I naturally wake at 5:00am every morning, whether I want to or not, my body is ready to go at the same time every day. I have mentally and physically pushed my limits, pushed through walls, and have defeated my fear of long distance running and my belief I would never run a marathon. I cried at the end of my 20 miler 3 weeks ago because I did it—I cried because running is a sport in which you use your own legs, your own power, your own ability to get across that finish line. There is to team in running. Only U (you) and I.
As I watched Chicago go by outside the bus window this morning, I realized we (myself included) too often forget the “why;” we forget the journey. We sometimes get caught up with work, school, our race pace, our times, and we forget why we are in our saddles, why we are in our Brooks or Mizunos, or in our bathing suits 6-7 days/week. We too often don’t take the time to ask ourselves “why am I doing this?” We wake up on too many mornings and seem to forget how lucky we are; we have the ability to use our bodies to do such amazing things—we forget that we CAN. I recently read a touching article about Jenny Crain in the November issue of Runner’s World. She was an Olympic qualifier until she got hit by a car 2 years ago while crossing a street on a run, and now she struggles to walk 50 feet and cannot remember anything from before the accident. The article and her life reminded me how very quickly everything can be taken away.
I know life gets busy—between trying to balance work, family, friends, school, and training, sometimes it’s hard to come up for air, and sometimes very difficult to see the light at the end of a very long tunnel. It helps during these times to know your own “why.” The “why” is what pushes you through every day; the “why” is the journey—what we all should revel in every single workout.
What is my “why?” On Sunday, my “why” is my grandmother. I run in honor of the 20 years she suffered chronic Alzheimer’s. My fuel, my why, is the last good bye and I love you she said to me 2 days before she passed away—those last few moments she remembered who I was. My “why” everyday is in honor for those who don’t have the opportunity to have a “why,” like Jenny Crain. My “why” everyday is in because crossing a finish line teaches me more about myself than any other book or professor. My “why” is because pushing myself to my absolute physical and mental limits is what makes me feel strong enough to take on and change the world.
What is your “why”?
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Friday, September 18, 2009
And the problem was...
a tight calf and achilles tendon, and a completely effed up left hip. So this explains why my right foot went numb in the middle of the Chicago tri, and why I ended up crying more tears of pain than happiness from cramping...
So here I am, 3 weeks and some change away from the biggest race of my life yet and one of my steps towards being an iron(wo)man: the Chicago marathon, and I am now in physical therapy 2-3 days a week for Plantar Fasciitis, overtight muscles in my right lower leg, and a jacked up left hip. I woke up on Monday after an amazing 14 mile run on Sunday with extreme pain in my right heel. I knew right away what it was. I did some yoga Tuesday and Wednesday, and after some convincing, made it to Accelerated to visit with a Physical Therapist on Wednesday. I found out that day how very much this race means to me.
Lindsey did her normal "thing" to check for injuries: measurements of my legs, hips, feet, my uneven legs (yes, one is longer than the other), and reminded me that my hip strength isn't all that. She checked my right foot closely, and hit it with some vibrating metal contraption, upon which I made a face and yelled "ouchiiieeee" (okay, I just said ow). She looked up at me and gave me the "ooohhhh sh*t" face...like "This is NOT just a muscle issue." She pulled over the machine to the table and said "we are doing an ultrasound RIGHT now!" My heart fell. The idea of not running this race NEVER ran through my head. My runs have been vastly improving, my endurance is what it has never been before, and I have finally learned to push through my walls. I am assuming the rush was because I put my foot down about running the race (pun intended); I was NOT not going to run the marathon, no.matter.what. She told me I may have a stress fracture, and if I did, the ultrasound would HURT. I cringed as she ran the handle over my foot, but luckily, it never hurt. No fracture :).
I had my first day of PT today--I am to do 4 exercises a day at home--3 for my calves/achilles/ankles, and 1 for my hips (gotta love the monster walk--I better get a firm butt out of this). I am to meet with her 2-3 days/week until the marathon. She spent most of her time rubbing, pulling, stretching, giving me heat therapy via ultrasound, and evaluating. I could get used to this. She put me on a Power Plate Vibration machine for about 10 minutes as well. It vibrates (duh), which forces the muscles in your legs to "work" without you moving. In a non-scientific explanation, the vibrating forces the muscles to not only loosen up, but also strengthens them as they try to stabilize themselves during the vibrating motion. The vibrating also removes toxins from the body via better blood circulation, so hopefully it's "cleaning out" my legs. I am sold. Next: Sports massage from Pierre at the Old Town location before and after the race.
I know the injuries could be worse, and I am not in a TON of pain. I can still run and I do still have two legs, so all in all, I am a happy camper. I had a rude awakening yesterday when I heard a phone call taken by a good friend who is a PA. One of her breast cancer patients (who has stage 3 or 4 cancer) was found on her floor after lying there for three days, too weak to move, and had to be admitted to the hospital. I heard the call, and though I don't EVER take my health for granted, I realized how very special our "kind" is. We can get up in the morning and run 10 miles like it's nothing, we can swim a few miles and laugh about it, and we can bike for 6 hours and recover in 2 days.
So be it, I am injured, but it's curable. I will run the marathon with all my heart and soul, and it will be for and in honor of not only my hero--my grandmother--but also for and in honor of those who have no choice--who cannot run, or even walk, because of circumstances out of their control.
Injuries happen, they suck, they will make you angry, cry, scream, hurt, moody, sleepy, and grouchy. But guess what? You still can.
So here I am, 3 weeks and some change away from the biggest race of my life yet and one of my steps towards being an iron(wo)man: the Chicago marathon, and I am now in physical therapy 2-3 days a week for Plantar Fasciitis, overtight muscles in my right lower leg, and a jacked up left hip. I woke up on Monday after an amazing 14 mile run on Sunday with extreme pain in my right heel. I knew right away what it was. I did some yoga Tuesday and Wednesday, and after some convincing, made it to Accelerated to visit with a Physical Therapist on Wednesday. I found out that day how very much this race means to me.
Lindsey did her normal "thing" to check for injuries: measurements of my legs, hips, feet, my uneven legs (yes, one is longer than the other), and reminded me that my hip strength isn't all that. She checked my right foot closely, and hit it with some vibrating metal contraption, upon which I made a face and yelled "ouchiiieeee" (okay, I just said ow). She looked up at me and gave me the "ooohhhh sh*t" face...like "This is NOT just a muscle issue." She pulled over the machine to the table and said "we are doing an ultrasound RIGHT now!" My heart fell. The idea of not running this race NEVER ran through my head. My runs have been vastly improving, my endurance is what it has never been before, and I have finally learned to push through my walls. I am assuming the rush was because I put my foot down about running the race (pun intended); I was NOT not going to run the marathon, no.matter.what. She told me I may have a stress fracture, and if I did, the ultrasound would HURT. I cringed as she ran the handle over my foot, but luckily, it never hurt. No fracture :).
I had my first day of PT today--I am to do 4 exercises a day at home--3 for my calves/achilles/ankles, and 1 for my hips (gotta love the monster walk--I better get a firm butt out of this). I am to meet with her 2-3 days/week until the marathon. She spent most of her time rubbing, pulling, stretching, giving me heat therapy via ultrasound, and evaluating. I could get used to this. She put me on a Power Plate Vibration machine for about 10 minutes as well. It vibrates (duh), which forces the muscles in your legs to "work" without you moving. In a non-scientific explanation, the vibrating forces the muscles to not only loosen up, but also strengthens them as they try to stabilize themselves during the vibrating motion. The vibrating also removes toxins from the body via better blood circulation, so hopefully it's "cleaning out" my legs. I am sold. Next: Sports massage from Pierre at the Old Town location before and after the race.
I know the injuries could be worse, and I am not in a TON of pain. I can still run and I do still have two legs, so all in all, I am a happy camper. I had a rude awakening yesterday when I heard a phone call taken by a good friend who is a PA. One of her breast cancer patients (who has stage 3 or 4 cancer) was found on her floor after lying there for three days, too weak to move, and had to be admitted to the hospital. I heard the call, and though I don't EVER take my health for granted, I realized how very special our "kind" is. We can get up in the morning and run 10 miles like it's nothing, we can swim a few miles and laugh about it, and we can bike for 6 hours and recover in 2 days.
So be it, I am injured, but it's curable. I will run the marathon with all my heart and soul, and it will be for and in honor of not only my hero--my grandmother--but also for and in honor of those who have no choice--who cannot run, or even walk, because of circumstances out of their control.
Injuries happen, they suck, they will make you angry, cry, scream, hurt, moody, sleepy, and grouchy. But guess what? You still can.
Monday, August 31, 2009
The Chicago Tri
I know I STILL need to post about St. Anthony's but here is my entry about the Chi Tri while it's fresh in my head.
I put my tri shorts on backwards at 3am. And didn't realize it until 40 minutes before my start at 9:32am. Luckily the rest of my day didn't follow that mindless track it was obviously on at 3 in the morning! I typically wouldn't post on what most (including myself) would consider a pretty amateur race, however, I feel I owe it some reflection because I tested myself mentally and physically the most I EVER have in a race. Let's go back to the taper weeks before. I got sick 2 weeks ago, and stayed home from work with some flu symptoms. It continued until about Thursday, and I was well enough to fit in my 17.5 mile marathon training run with some of the Element-ers that Saturday. True taper week: felt great, but then slightly sick again on Wednesday--a cold, the sniffles mostly, but not feeling 100%. Come Friday, I was feeling 100% finally, and made the conscious decision to, for the lack of better terms, go "balls out" on Sunday because I feel that I never have taken myself far enough, mentally or physically, in a race. I wasn't feeling not nearly as ready as I wished. I had to turn my focus over the past few months to my true "A" race--the marathon, and studying for my exit exam for my Masters has certainly taken up a lot of my time as well. I know deep down I could have trained harder and I had so much more gusto to pull out of myself, but either way, I knew that I wanted to give every ounce of my heart and strength on Sunday, and I did.
Saturday night I had some chicken for dinner---I am not a pasta gal before races, so I always stick to trusty game:). I was in bed by 10:00pm but could not sleep for the life of me. Every noise in my apartment that I typically hear every night kept me up, and my mind just kept running. I was thinking about the race, school, work, the marathon, my schedule this week--you name it, I thought about it. I finally fell asleep for 2 hours, however those 2 hours of sleep were filled with a couple nightmares and restlessness. The alarm went off at 3am, and I was out of bed and getting ready. I ate my breakfast--1.5 bagels with peanut butter, a banana, and some water. I put my race clothes on (yes...I did put my tri shorts on backwards at this point), packed up my stuff, and met some people at Belmont to ride down together.It was VERY cold in the morning, and I spent 4.5 hours mingling and amping myself up for the race. I ate breakfast again 2.5 hours before my start, consumed some Powerade, and sipped on water (which I should have been gulping--this would become clear in the run). I started the swim at 9:32am with my carrot Jess Katz, and fittingly took off to some Lady Gaga playing in the background :). I let the large crowd ahead of me take off and spread out before I started my stroke, but once I did, I was in the zone. I had the best swim of my life out there. I was lucky to hear Katy Otto screaming my name along the wall, and I put myself into the "you can do it" state of mind. When I swim, I completely lose track of time. This being said, when I saw the swim start, I thought it was the swim exit, and gunned it. I was swimming super fast, and my form felt amazing. I was passing people in my group and other wave starts. I heard myself say over and over "you are passing people and not being passed!" Then I looked up only to see the swim start...again. OOOPS! That being said, I continued swimming, but didn't stop my pace. Granted I had to stop a couple times because I was run over by the male group of green caps, and I had to readjust my pace, but all in all, I gave it ALL I had, and the open water...ppssshhh I win!
T1 was a little slow considering the run in is a quarter mile from the swim. I grabbed my bike, exited, and was on my way to a VERY windy and rough bike. The first loop went by fairly quickly, however going north was like being stuck in a wind tunnel that did not let up. Then going south, I felt like the wind shifted somewhat at certain points--I felt like Forrest Gump thinking about the rain that seemed to be blowing sideways and coming from every direction. The second loop was bruttle, and as I spotted some fresh blood splattered on the pavement, a reminder of what I was doing. There were times where I was giving my everythingwhen it felt nearly impossible, literally yelling at myself and screaming to keep going, and I was only going 10mph uphill. My right glute muscle started hurting pretty bad, and I tried to use some of the tips I learned from Stacee in the 2 computrainer classes I have taken in order to allow my left leg to do most of the work. Going back south, I found myselft cruising at 26 mph more than once, in which at this time I tried giving my legs a small break. My nutrition was timed out on the bike...every half hour take a tablyte, and every 45 minutes eat a gel. I was drinking water throughout the bike as well. I did everything accordingly, however, I am definitely investing in Infinit for the bike next season so I can get my electrolytes and carbs from just one bottle to make my life easier. Oh and also purchase a more efficient hydration system so I don't have to reach for my down tube anymore.
My T2 time was decent, but was in DIRE need of some body glide which I didn't end up finding upon searching other people's transitions (Yes, I was desperate). I chaffed my left underarm very badly on the swim, and was in A LOT of pain (and still am). I took off on the run, which started off good. I was running around an 8:35-40 pace to start which I was happy with, and Cristina Gomez joined me when I started to slow down due to an aching achilles. She stayed with me for about 10 minutes, but then I had to do what I HATE doing...I had to stop to stretch out my right leg and to walk off some of the pain. I walked for about a minute and started running again. It HURT. The real pain started around mile 2. I stopped to stretch my hamstrings and achilles up against a tree when I realized both of my quads had charley horses. No joke, I was one of "those" runners who was screaming on the side of the path while stretching. I stopped maybe around 8 times to stretch throughout the run, but mentally forced myself to keep running, and only stopped to stretch--I didn't want to walk. I stopped on a hill where I did a downward dog pose around mile 4.5, and completely lost it. I have never felt this much pain in my entire life in my legs. My right leg was completely numb since mile 2 (it felt as if it fell asleep--it was tingling and I couldn't feel my toes), and I started bawling and screaming while I was stretching. I sucked it up after about a minute of the most painful stretching and continued to run with tears running down my face--I was writhing in pain, but ripped everything I had out of me to finish the race. I talked to myelf at certain points, and kept telling myself to "man up" and to keep going. I did.
I finished the race, not with the time I wanted or the age group placement I would have liked (nor the smile on my face I usually have), but with the knowledge that I put my all into this race, and into fighting my pain and not giving up. Something with my nutrition went wrong somewhere--more water, more electrolytes (my face was COATED in salt after the race) were most likely needed. There are some people who have a bad race, and come up with every possible excuse as to why they did not finish how they wanted. I am not that person. If I know I did bad because I didn't put my all into it, or it just wasn't my day--so be it--I will say it. We cannot have them all. Today was not that day for me. I can honestly say this triathlon took my heart, my soul, my passion, and everything I have been doing for almost 2 years now. I was at its mercy, and would not have had it any other way.
So to those of you who have had days like mine--where cramps, or weather hinders your desired time or placement--always remember that you won the race against yourself, and that you can walk away knowing you gave it your all. In the end, that is all that matters.
Finishing time: 3:31
In the words of Mike: LFDT!
I put my tri shorts on backwards at 3am. And didn't realize it until 40 minutes before my start at 9:32am. Luckily the rest of my day didn't follow that mindless track it was obviously on at 3 in the morning! I typically wouldn't post on what most (including myself) would consider a pretty amateur race, however, I feel I owe it some reflection because I tested myself mentally and physically the most I EVER have in a race. Let's go back to the taper weeks before. I got sick 2 weeks ago, and stayed home from work with some flu symptoms. It continued until about Thursday, and I was well enough to fit in my 17.5 mile marathon training run with some of the Element-ers that Saturday. True taper week: felt great, but then slightly sick again on Wednesday--a cold, the sniffles mostly, but not feeling 100%. Come Friday, I was feeling 100% finally, and made the conscious decision to, for the lack of better terms, go "balls out" on Sunday because I feel that I never have taken myself far enough, mentally or physically, in a race. I wasn't feeling not nearly as ready as I wished. I had to turn my focus over the past few months to my true "A" race--the marathon, and studying for my exit exam for my Masters has certainly taken up a lot of my time as well. I know deep down I could have trained harder and I had so much more gusto to pull out of myself, but either way, I knew that I wanted to give every ounce of my heart and strength on Sunday, and I did.
Saturday night I had some chicken for dinner---I am not a pasta gal before races, so I always stick to trusty game:). I was in bed by 10:00pm but could not sleep for the life of me. Every noise in my apartment that I typically hear every night kept me up, and my mind just kept running. I was thinking about the race, school, work, the marathon, my schedule this week--you name it, I thought about it. I finally fell asleep for 2 hours, however those 2 hours of sleep were filled with a couple nightmares and restlessness. The alarm went off at 3am, and I was out of bed and getting ready. I ate my breakfast--1.5 bagels with peanut butter, a banana, and some water. I put my race clothes on (yes...I did put my tri shorts on backwards at this point), packed up my stuff, and met some people at Belmont to ride down together.It was VERY cold in the morning, and I spent 4.5 hours mingling and amping myself up for the race. I ate breakfast again 2.5 hours before my start, consumed some Powerade, and sipped on water (which I should have been gulping--this would become clear in the run). I started the swim at 9:32am with my carrot Jess Katz, and fittingly took off to some Lady Gaga playing in the background :). I let the large crowd ahead of me take off and spread out before I started my stroke, but once I did, I was in the zone. I had the best swim of my life out there. I was lucky to hear Katy Otto screaming my name along the wall, and I put myself into the "you can do it" state of mind. When I swim, I completely lose track of time. This being said, when I saw the swim start, I thought it was the swim exit, and gunned it. I was swimming super fast, and my form felt amazing. I was passing people in my group and other wave starts. I heard myself say over and over "you are passing people and not being passed!" Then I looked up only to see the swim start...again. OOOPS! That being said, I continued swimming, but didn't stop my pace. Granted I had to stop a couple times because I was run over by the male group of green caps, and I had to readjust my pace, but all in all, I gave it ALL I had, and the open water...ppssshhh I win!
T1 was a little slow considering the run in is a quarter mile from the swim. I grabbed my bike, exited, and was on my way to a VERY windy and rough bike. The first loop went by fairly quickly, however going north was like being stuck in a wind tunnel that did not let up. Then going south, I felt like the wind shifted somewhat at certain points--I felt like Forrest Gump thinking about the rain that seemed to be blowing sideways and coming from every direction. The second loop was bruttle, and as I spotted some fresh blood splattered on the pavement, a reminder of what I was doing. There were times where I was giving my everythingwhen it felt nearly impossible, literally yelling at myself and screaming to keep going, and I was only going 10mph uphill. My right glute muscle started hurting pretty bad, and I tried to use some of the tips I learned from Stacee in the 2 computrainer classes I have taken in order to allow my left leg to do most of the work. Going back south, I found myselft cruising at 26 mph more than once, in which at this time I tried giving my legs a small break. My nutrition was timed out on the bike...every half hour take a tablyte, and every 45 minutes eat a gel. I was drinking water throughout the bike as well. I did everything accordingly, however, I am definitely investing in Infinit for the bike next season so I can get my electrolytes and carbs from just one bottle to make my life easier. Oh and also purchase a more efficient hydration system so I don't have to reach for my down tube anymore.
My T2 time was decent, but was in DIRE need of some body glide which I didn't end up finding upon searching other people's transitions (Yes, I was desperate). I chaffed my left underarm very badly on the swim, and was in A LOT of pain (and still am). I took off on the run, which started off good. I was running around an 8:35-40 pace to start which I was happy with, and Cristina Gomez joined me when I started to slow down due to an aching achilles. She stayed with me for about 10 minutes, but then I had to do what I HATE doing...I had to stop to stretch out my right leg and to walk off some of the pain. I walked for about a minute and started running again. It HURT. The real pain started around mile 2. I stopped to stretch my hamstrings and achilles up against a tree when I realized both of my quads had charley horses. No joke, I was one of "those" runners who was screaming on the side of the path while stretching. I stopped maybe around 8 times to stretch throughout the run, but mentally forced myself to keep running, and only stopped to stretch--I didn't want to walk. I stopped on a hill where I did a downward dog pose around mile 4.5, and completely lost it. I have never felt this much pain in my entire life in my legs. My right leg was completely numb since mile 2 (it felt as if it fell asleep--it was tingling and I couldn't feel my toes), and I started bawling and screaming while I was stretching. I sucked it up after about a minute of the most painful stretching and continued to run with tears running down my face--I was writhing in pain, but ripped everything I had out of me to finish the race. I talked to myelf at certain points, and kept telling myself to "man up" and to keep going. I did.
I finished the race, not with the time I wanted or the age group placement I would have liked (nor the smile on my face I usually have), but with the knowledge that I put my all into this race, and into fighting my pain and not giving up. Something with my nutrition went wrong somewhere--more water, more electrolytes (my face was COATED in salt after the race) were most likely needed. There are some people who have a bad race, and come up with every possible excuse as to why they did not finish how they wanted. I am not that person. If I know I did bad because I didn't put my all into it, or it just wasn't my day--so be it--I will say it. We cannot have them all. Today was not that day for me. I can honestly say this triathlon took my heart, my soul, my passion, and everything I have been doing for almost 2 years now. I was at its mercy, and would not have had it any other way.
So to those of you who have had days like mine--where cramps, or weather hinders your desired time or placement--always remember that you won the race against yourself, and that you can walk away knowing you gave it your all. In the end, that is all that matters.
Finishing time: 3:31
In the words of Mike: LFDT!
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Team in Training
Where do I begin...Well, I guess from the day I sat in on a Team in Training meeting. After my first season of triathlons and burnout, I knew that I wanted to try joining a club or a team for some moral support. My best friend Becca's mom was just diagnosed with Non-Hodgekins's lymphoma, so I thought, well, I want to join a group and want to help out her mom, so maybe I should look into Team in Training, the country's largest endurance sports group that fundraises and trains together. I went to a meeting in early September where I learned about Team in Training, heard inspirational stories, and heard about my racing options. I would train with a team and coaches two days a week, and train on my own the rest of the time. We would help eachother fundraise and race together for one cause in Florida. We would be eachother's moral support, and sometimes physical support. I loved what I heard, so I signed up. I have not looked back since.
I was nervous. I have NEVER fundraised before, let alone having to fundraise $4,200. I grabbed some TNT paper and envelopes, and some change boxes and walked out wondering if I could actually do this. Luckily, I had a contact at TNT who let me open my website early. My website consists of a picture of Becca's mom, her story, and my goal, and a scale of how much money I have raised so far. It was so difficult staring at the scale--I had so far to go and no clue what I was doing. However, what I did know is that I was no longer doing this for myself...it was for Debra. If there are days I don't want to get up, I think of her. If there are days when my body aches and I have too much to do, I think of her pain compared to mine. Training became almost easier and something I had to do because it was no longer about me. I had a goal, a purpose, and it did not just involve me anymore.
I met my team at our first kick-off meeting, and had the chance to speak to my mentor Erin for the first time. She is really sweet and very easy to talk to, and I have turned to her so much for support and could not have a better mentor. I missed the first group training because I had gotten utterly and completely lost! I could not find the UIC pool for the life of me, so I spent my training time looking for the pool. I was upset, but knew I would meet them again on Wednesday, however, that did not happen. UIC did not have TNT on their schedule, so training was cancelled and everyone went home. I FINALLY met my team and training on Saturday at Athletico for a group run and stretch clinic. We all sat down and discussed fundraising matters and I received an award for fundraising over $100 within the first month and for having the most creative webpage. I met Jessica, a really sweet girl who I ended up running and stretching with that day. We got to talking about bikes, training, where we grew up, and since then we have become TNT buddies, and have decided to room together in Florida. We ran outside as a team in freezing temps, and then I went to breakfast with Jessica afterwards. I knew after that day that TNT is what I needed--I needed to train with a purpose other than myself in mind, and I need others in my life who share a common goal and lifestyle as me. I finally found it.
I guess I should start with discussing fundraising. I had my first fundraiser on October 4th at Barley Corn in Lincoln Park. I charged $35 at the door, and I only received $10 a head for LLS. I didn't expect but maybe 20 people to show, but I ended up with a little over 50 people showing up. I raised $470 that night...a small dent in my fundraising efforts, but a huge reminder that this is possible. I was a little sad I only received $10 a person, so I looked for other ways to raise money. I sent out close to 100 letters to coworkers, family, friends, and anyone I knew in the neighborhood who could help. I started asking local businesses if they would put out a change box for their customers. I started off with two at Nancy's Pizza and Al's Beef, as the owner is Debra's friend. I held another fundraiser in January--a happy hour. $5 at the door got you $2 beers, pasta, and beer for 3 hours, and I received the $5 and the tips. I raised $316, which at this time pushed me just over my half-way mark. I had a great turnout, having marketed my fundraiser with the "Three-hour long" as opposed to the Subway "$5 foot long." People still tell me they think of me when they see Subway commercials :). I was on a roll, but knew I had to host a HUGE fundraiser with a raffle and silent auction in the suburbs--where most of my support would come from since Becca's family resided in Tinley Park and the surrounding area, and that is where most of my family and friends live as well.
I decided to plan a huge party at Bourbon Street in Merrionette Park. I invited just over 100 people, and started contacting places for raffle and silent auction prizes. I received items from the Chicago sports teams, a private accessory party, 3 wine parties, golf certificates, massages, cooking classes, and a few other small items. Only 3 people RSVP-ed, which needless to say made me nervous. I showed up at Bourbon early to get set up, and the room was amazing. I had beer, wine, and food included. I charged $35 at the door, and I was able to keep $25 of it, and then had to pay Bourbon $300 no matter what. Before paying Bourbon street I ended up making $2700...it was a huge success. My dad was so sweet and hired one of the guys who plays music at Potbelly's to play, and he was great! Everyone loved him! I ended up having a great turnout, and was so impressed with everyone's willingness to purchase raffle tickets and to even give me more money at the door. Upon leaving Bourbon street, I counted my earnings, and realized "Wow...I did it." I was $200 shy of the $4,200 I needed.
To this day, I have raised a little over $4500, and I still have a few checks to cash and change boxes to collect. My personal goal is $5000, in which I think I will reach. After numerous letter campaigns, follow up phone calls, and fundraisers, I accomplished what I never thought I could.
So the friends and the training...the best part. Every Wednesday, TNT meets at UIC at 8pm to swim for an hour, and every Saturday morning at different locations to swim, bike or run. This past Saturday, April 4th, we did a great brick workout up north. 80 minute bike ride and a 20 minute run. I got to ride my new bike, Achillies--a Felt F85 road bike with Shimano 105 components. He is amazing! I do have to say though that at this point biking will be my weakest leg since I have only been clipped in a few times and out on my real bike about 4-5 times (thanks to the Chicago weather being less than ideal).
I tear up talking or even thinking about my team. Every Wednesday that I hop into that pool, if I am tired, if I feel like I cannot...I still do. Every Saturday when I am tired and just want to sleep in, I don't. I get up and meet up with everyone to train. Yes, we have all had our share of mornings when we were out too late on Friday and didn't show on Saturday, but the majority of us are always at training. We all have had our respective fundraisers which have been so fun. This past Saturday I attended a beer pong tournament at Mickey's, and had a blast! We all support one another, and spending the money is not an issue since we all know where it is going. Everyone is so kind and so genuine, and I feel so grateful to have met so many great friends through TNT.
I recently purchased a triathlon jersey for the race...I could wear anything I want, but I feel the need to represent why I am doing this, and what I have been working so hard towards for the past 4 months (a year a half if you count all of my last races preparing for my first Oly). I leave in 2 weeks and 3 days, and I get chills and goosebumps just thinking about it.
I am now addicted to fundraising. I recently signed up for the Chicago marathon with the Chicago Area Runners Association. I will train with CARA, and raise money for TEAM CARE, a team for the Alzheimer's Association. I have to raise a minimum of $262...small potatoes to what I just raised. I am excited to begin that journey as well. The marathon is a whole other ball of wax that I will blog about once I begin training. The marathon is in preparation for my Ironman title in hopefully 2011.
I was nervous. I have NEVER fundraised before, let alone having to fundraise $4,200. I grabbed some TNT paper and envelopes, and some change boxes and walked out wondering if I could actually do this. Luckily, I had a contact at TNT who let me open my website early. My website consists of a picture of Becca's mom, her story, and my goal, and a scale of how much money I have raised so far. It was so difficult staring at the scale--I had so far to go and no clue what I was doing. However, what I did know is that I was no longer doing this for myself...it was for Debra. If there are days I don't want to get up, I think of her. If there are days when my body aches and I have too much to do, I think of her pain compared to mine. Training became almost easier and something I had to do because it was no longer about me. I had a goal, a purpose, and it did not just involve me anymore.
I met my team at our first kick-off meeting, and had the chance to speak to my mentor Erin for the first time. She is really sweet and very easy to talk to, and I have turned to her so much for support and could not have a better mentor. I missed the first group training because I had gotten utterly and completely lost! I could not find the UIC pool for the life of me, so I spent my training time looking for the pool. I was upset, but knew I would meet them again on Wednesday, however, that did not happen. UIC did not have TNT on their schedule, so training was cancelled and everyone went home. I FINALLY met my team and training on Saturday at Athletico for a group run and stretch clinic. We all sat down and discussed fundraising matters and I received an award for fundraising over $100 within the first month and for having the most creative webpage. I met Jessica, a really sweet girl who I ended up running and stretching with that day. We got to talking about bikes, training, where we grew up, and since then we have become TNT buddies, and have decided to room together in Florida. We ran outside as a team in freezing temps, and then I went to breakfast with Jessica afterwards. I knew after that day that TNT is what I needed--I needed to train with a purpose other than myself in mind, and I need others in my life who share a common goal and lifestyle as me. I finally found it.
I guess I should start with discussing fundraising. I had my first fundraiser on October 4th at Barley Corn in Lincoln Park. I charged $35 at the door, and I only received $10 a head for LLS. I didn't expect but maybe 20 people to show, but I ended up with a little over 50 people showing up. I raised $470 that night...a small dent in my fundraising efforts, but a huge reminder that this is possible. I was a little sad I only received $10 a person, so I looked for other ways to raise money. I sent out close to 100 letters to coworkers, family, friends, and anyone I knew in the neighborhood who could help. I started asking local businesses if they would put out a change box for their customers. I started off with two at Nancy's Pizza and Al's Beef, as the owner is Debra's friend. I held another fundraiser in January--a happy hour. $5 at the door got you $2 beers, pasta, and beer for 3 hours, and I received the $5 and the tips. I raised $316, which at this time pushed me just over my half-way mark. I had a great turnout, having marketed my fundraiser with the "Three-hour long" as opposed to the Subway "$5 foot long." People still tell me they think of me when they see Subway commercials :). I was on a roll, but knew I had to host a HUGE fundraiser with a raffle and silent auction in the suburbs--where most of my support would come from since Becca's family resided in Tinley Park and the surrounding area, and that is where most of my family and friends live as well.
I decided to plan a huge party at Bourbon Street in Merrionette Park. I invited just over 100 people, and started contacting places for raffle and silent auction prizes. I received items from the Chicago sports teams, a private accessory party, 3 wine parties, golf certificates, massages, cooking classes, and a few other small items. Only 3 people RSVP-ed, which needless to say made me nervous. I showed up at Bourbon early to get set up, and the room was amazing. I had beer, wine, and food included. I charged $35 at the door, and I was able to keep $25 of it, and then had to pay Bourbon $300 no matter what. Before paying Bourbon street I ended up making $2700...it was a huge success. My dad was so sweet and hired one of the guys who plays music at Potbelly's to play, and he was great! Everyone loved him! I ended up having a great turnout, and was so impressed with everyone's willingness to purchase raffle tickets and to even give me more money at the door. Upon leaving Bourbon street, I counted my earnings, and realized "Wow...I did it." I was $200 shy of the $4,200 I needed.
To this day, I have raised a little over $4500, and I still have a few checks to cash and change boxes to collect. My personal goal is $5000, in which I think I will reach. After numerous letter campaigns, follow up phone calls, and fundraisers, I accomplished what I never thought I could.
So the friends and the training...the best part. Every Wednesday, TNT meets at UIC at 8pm to swim for an hour, and every Saturday morning at different locations to swim, bike or run. This past Saturday, April 4th, we did a great brick workout up north. 80 minute bike ride and a 20 minute run. I got to ride my new bike, Achillies--a Felt F85 road bike with Shimano 105 components. He is amazing! I do have to say though that at this point biking will be my weakest leg since I have only been clipped in a few times and out on my real bike about 4-5 times (thanks to the Chicago weather being less than ideal).
I tear up talking or even thinking about my team. Every Wednesday that I hop into that pool, if I am tired, if I feel like I cannot...I still do. Every Saturday when I am tired and just want to sleep in, I don't. I get up and meet up with everyone to train. Yes, we have all had our share of mornings when we were out too late on Friday and didn't show on Saturday, but the majority of us are always at training. We all have had our respective fundraisers which have been so fun. This past Saturday I attended a beer pong tournament at Mickey's, and had a blast! We all support one another, and spending the money is not an issue since we all know where it is going. Everyone is so kind and so genuine, and I feel so grateful to have met so many great friends through TNT.
I recently purchased a triathlon jersey for the race...I could wear anything I want, but I feel the need to represent why I am doing this, and what I have been working so hard towards for the past 4 months (a year a half if you count all of my last races preparing for my first Oly). I leave in 2 weeks and 3 days, and I get chills and goosebumps just thinking about it.
I am now addicted to fundraising. I recently signed up for the Chicago marathon with the Chicago Area Runners Association. I will train with CARA, and raise money for TEAM CARE, a team for the Alzheimer's Association. I have to raise a minimum of $262...small potatoes to what I just raised. I am excited to begin that journey as well. The marathon is a whole other ball of wax that I will blog about once I begin training. The marathon is in preparation for my Ironman title in hopefully 2011.
Friday, February 20, 2009
So what I am saying is...
"One of the most talked about aspects of triathlon training is the mental side of the coin. They say you find your real character during a race. You know who you are when you finish a triathlon. Your wealth and possessions can be taken away from you at any time, but your achievements can not. So when a person decides to become a triathlete, they are also making a decision to find out who they really are, the core of their being. You can run, (and you will...a lot!), but you can't escape coming to grips with who you want to become and who you already are in your life. "
--This is from one of the emails one of my coaches sent out from Team in Training. Nothing rings more true.
--This is from one of the emails one of my coaches sent out from Team in Training. Nothing rings more true.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
The Fam
Before I go any further about my journey, I must dedicate a post to my parents, particularly my step-mom and dad. The first race I brought my dad to was last year--the Shamrock Shuffle, which was before my first triathlon in June. It was FREEZING outside. He arrived at 6am, and we took the train with all of the other avid runners. He stood outside the entire time, freezing his butt off just to watch 30,000 people fun. After I finished, we were both happy, but it was the moment when I think he realized what all this racing stuff was all about. He knew at this point that I had signed up for the Naperville sprint triathlon, but I don't think quite understood the point, I know that point was not communicated at the Shamrock Shuffle. I just think at this moment he knew racing meant something to me.
The idea of getting up at 3:30am on a Sunday to stand around watching athletes for 5 hours was not my parents idea of a good time either. When I told them that I needed a ride to Naperville and that they had to get up, they were less than excited. They were more than willing, but didn't know what to expect. My dad, however, showed much interest in what I was doing because I think he began to see the slow, positive change in me. He took me the day before to drive the course and to pick up my race materials. I had my numbers drawn on me (little did I know at the time that I could do this myself), and I picked up my race shirt and materials for the next day. He stood around with me to listen to the course talks, and basically repeated everything the man said, even though I was standing right next to him (thanks dad ;). Before leaving, we drove the bike course, and I think it was then that my dad realized what I was about to take on the next day.
Sunday came and I was up at 3:15am, and my step-mom and day were not far behind. I ate my pre-race ritual breakfast--oatmeal with 3 splenda and a smashed banana and a yogurt, and we were on our way. I think my dad wanted to get me to T1 quicker than I wanted to go! I ended up getting a great T1 spot--right on the end of the bike rack where I didn't have to search through the sea of bikes for minutes. My dad would not leave my side--he was taking pictures, telling me how to set up my things (at this point I pulled the "dad I got it!" out). Eventually a race official removed him from my side and told him only athletes were allowed in T1. After setting up, we waited, and waited, and waited. It rained, it stormed, it rained again. My mom and Roy showed up as well, and they all sat together to watch me line up in wave 28. Right before I went off, the announcer said over the intercom, "Julie from Tinley Park, your family loves you and is so proud." I looked up and they were all smiles with a big poster that read "Run Shimko Run!" The R's even had little gym shoes on them...I saw my family coming out of the water, and then I didn't see my family again until the run, but the beginning of the race and their support is all I needed to keep going--even when after the swim I asked myself "What the f&*^ am I doing this for?!"
Since then, my parents have become a part of my lifestyle...more so my father and my step-mom than anything. Even though they missed seeing me through the ENTIRE race, my dad and Debbie still came to the Chicago triathlon to greet me after the finish...me in tears and them wondering where the heck I went so quickly. In September, I joined Team in Training with the dream of racing in Florida in the St. Anthony's Olympic Triathlon with a team. I was told I had to raise $4200...which at the time seemed nearly impossible in this economy. My parents weren't really sure if I was serious...heck I didn't know if I was serious. As I raised more and more money (I will discuss my Team in Training experience in length soon), my family realized I was really going to do this. I was really going to travel down to Florida with a team, having raised money for blood cancers. My dad and step mom have been angels to me during this experience, and I honestly could not thank them more or appreciate them more. My parents have recognized that over the past year and 2 months that I have become a new person. I have become more positive, more driven, more alive, and more optimistic about any challenge I face. Through this journey, I have doubted myself many times, but it's through these times that my parents have helped me through. I will never forget crossing my first triathlon finish line only to fall into the arms of my family crying tears of accomplishment and joy. Thank you :).
The idea of getting up at 3:30am on a Sunday to stand around watching athletes for 5 hours was not my parents idea of a good time either. When I told them that I needed a ride to Naperville and that they had to get up, they were less than excited. They were more than willing, but didn't know what to expect. My dad, however, showed much interest in what I was doing because I think he began to see the slow, positive change in me. He took me the day before to drive the course and to pick up my race materials. I had my numbers drawn on me (little did I know at the time that I could do this myself), and I picked up my race shirt and materials for the next day. He stood around with me to listen to the course talks, and basically repeated everything the man said, even though I was standing right next to him (thanks dad ;). Before leaving, we drove the bike course, and I think it was then that my dad realized what I was about to take on the next day.
Sunday came and I was up at 3:15am, and my step-mom and day were not far behind. I ate my pre-race ritual breakfast--oatmeal with 3 splenda and a smashed banana and a yogurt, and we were on our way. I think my dad wanted to get me to T1 quicker than I wanted to go! I ended up getting a great T1 spot--right on the end of the bike rack where I didn't have to search through the sea of bikes for minutes. My dad would not leave my side--he was taking pictures, telling me how to set up my things (at this point I pulled the "dad I got it!" out). Eventually a race official removed him from my side and told him only athletes were allowed in T1. After setting up, we waited, and waited, and waited. It rained, it stormed, it rained again. My mom and Roy showed up as well, and they all sat together to watch me line up in wave 28. Right before I went off, the announcer said over the intercom, "Julie from Tinley Park, your family loves you and is so proud." I looked up and they were all smiles with a big poster that read "Run Shimko Run!" The R's even had little gym shoes on them...I saw my family coming out of the water, and then I didn't see my family again until the run, but the beginning of the race and their support is all I needed to keep going--even when after the swim I asked myself "What the f&*^ am I doing this for?!"
Since then, my parents have become a part of my lifestyle...more so my father and my step-mom than anything. Even though they missed seeing me through the ENTIRE race, my dad and Debbie still came to the Chicago triathlon to greet me after the finish...me in tears and them wondering where the heck I went so quickly. In September, I joined Team in Training with the dream of racing in Florida in the St. Anthony's Olympic Triathlon with a team. I was told I had to raise $4200...which at the time seemed nearly impossible in this economy. My parents weren't really sure if I was serious...heck I didn't know if I was serious. As I raised more and more money (I will discuss my Team in Training experience in length soon), my family realized I was really going to do this. I was really going to travel down to Florida with a team, having raised money for blood cancers. My dad and step mom have been angels to me during this experience, and I honestly could not thank them more or appreciate them more. My parents have recognized that over the past year and 2 months that I have become a new person. I have become more positive, more driven, more alive, and more optimistic about any challenge I face. Through this journey, I have doubted myself many times, but it's through these times that my parents have helped me through. I will never forget crossing my first triathlon finish line only to fall into the arms of my family crying tears of accomplishment and joy. Thank you :).
Thursday, February 12, 2009
There is no "Off Season"
In most sports, there is a time during the season when one kicks back and takes a breather. Football ends in February (well at least for the the lucky Superbowl title taker), and baseball ends in the fall and picks back up in the spring. The time I am sure is used to imbibe, visit family and friends, and to do, well, whatever one's heart desires. This is not the case for the triathlete...well at least one that wants to run a little faster or swim less like an anchor. There is no off season. I have been training straight now since January 7th of 2008, with the exception of maybe 2 weeks off after a race, or because I got sick (such as this month...I have only been in the gym FOUR times...), or because I just would like to do NOTHING for a couple evenings (aka sit on my ass and eat and watch TV).
I began my office season in September after the Chicago Tri. I hired a triathlon coach named Keith who designed a weight lifting regimen for me to build up my strength, gave me a running threshold test, revamped my swim stroke (to which I am forever grateful), and kept me running, biking and swimming for two months--until my next season started (the season I am currently in). The running threshold test was CRAZY. Try running the fastest and pushing your hardest for 3 miles...that is the test. I was sick for 4 days after that because I have never pushed myself that hard. It felt good. My max threshold was 178...I am curious if it at all has improved--I will most likely test again in August of this year.
For the first time swimming I felt like I was actually moving. I am not more streamlined and have had so many amazing swims where I was truly confident in my stroke, and believed that I might just be able to finish a race without doggy paddling and backstroke (or walking in some cases).
I have come to LOVE running outdoors...give me snow, give me rain, give me both, give me 15 degree weather...I have come to be obsessed with running in the cold. It's so invigorating, and I love knowing that people are now looking at ME going, "Look at that crazy runner...", just as I used to do while driving down Lakeshore Drive in the dead of winter. I love wearing my tights and bundling up and tuning out everything but my iPod and the beautiful views of the city. In October I volunteered for the Chicago Marathon. I was at the 10 mile aid station at 4am, and stayed until 1:10pm. It was amazing to watch all of the runners push themselves, and it was amazing to see people run who looked like they should not be running at all...but they were. I yelled and screamed the entire time. Nothing gets your blood pumping more than hearing peole cheer you on...I speak from experience :). So, if you are ever out to watch a race...please don't just stand there, but bring signs and your loud voice and cheer someone on! I am signed up for the race this year...which will be my ultimate test. Running to me has never come easily. It has become easier over time, and even more enjoyable, but in the past, between my asthma and my smoking habit, it was something that seemed so impossible for me to do for so long. I have goal of just finishing in 5 hours. In other words, I just want to finish. I will be volunteering or going to watch the Steelhead half ironman...my goal for next year. 1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, and 13 mile run.
I am currently in season right now--my next race is April 26th in Florida with Team in Training...my first Oly. It is tiring at times, however. Currently I am fundraising for Team in Training, going to grad school, working full time, training, and trying to have somewhat of a social life. I rarely ever get home before 9pm EVERY night of the week. I have class Tuesday evenings, I have training with my team Wednesday evening and on Saturday mornings, and then I must fit time in for homework, my boyfriend, friends, family, training, and lets not forget I work from 8:30-5:30 5 days a week, and sometimes even 8:30am-9pm (which I am currently doing). I am currently exhausted. Yes, I love to race and train...it's my passion. But lets not get that confused with the fact that I HAVE to train to race, and like anything else in life, it becomes tiresome when one has so much going on. I think most people think because I love to train and love to race that I never get stressed because it's my hobby. They are terribly wrong. I am human, and at the moment I am physically and mentally cashed! If I had one more thing on my plate right now, I think I may implode!
So that being said...us triathletes never get a break, but it's the race that reminds us that we can never stop training. It's during the swim, the bike, or the run, when we may become tired and weak, that we remember why we get up at 5am in the middle of winter just to get a swim in, or why we feel guilty when workouts must be compromised due to life that sometimes gets in the way, and it's why racing becomes your life--it becomes part of your being. Even if I was offered a "spring break," I don't think I would take it.
I began my office season in September after the Chicago Tri. I hired a triathlon coach named Keith who designed a weight lifting regimen for me to build up my strength, gave me a running threshold test, revamped my swim stroke (to which I am forever grateful), and kept me running, biking and swimming for two months--until my next season started (the season I am currently in). The running threshold test was CRAZY. Try running the fastest and pushing your hardest for 3 miles...that is the test. I was sick for 4 days after that because I have never pushed myself that hard. It felt good. My max threshold was 178...I am curious if it at all has improved--I will most likely test again in August of this year.
For the first time swimming I felt like I was actually moving. I am not more streamlined and have had so many amazing swims where I was truly confident in my stroke, and believed that I might just be able to finish a race without doggy paddling and backstroke (or walking in some cases).
I have come to LOVE running outdoors...give me snow, give me rain, give me both, give me 15 degree weather...I have come to be obsessed with running in the cold. It's so invigorating, and I love knowing that people are now looking at ME going, "Look at that crazy runner...", just as I used to do while driving down Lakeshore Drive in the dead of winter. I love wearing my tights and bundling up and tuning out everything but my iPod and the beautiful views of the city. In October I volunteered for the Chicago Marathon. I was at the 10 mile aid station at 4am, and stayed until 1:10pm. It was amazing to watch all of the runners push themselves, and it was amazing to see people run who looked like they should not be running at all...but they were. I yelled and screamed the entire time. Nothing gets your blood pumping more than hearing peole cheer you on...I speak from experience :). So, if you are ever out to watch a race...please don't just stand there, but bring signs and your loud voice and cheer someone on! I am signed up for the race this year...which will be my ultimate test. Running to me has never come easily. It has become easier over time, and even more enjoyable, but in the past, between my asthma and my smoking habit, it was something that seemed so impossible for me to do for so long. I have goal of just finishing in 5 hours. In other words, I just want to finish. I will be volunteering or going to watch the Steelhead half ironman...my goal for next year. 1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, and 13 mile run.
I am currently in season right now--my next race is April 26th in Florida with Team in Training...my first Oly. It is tiring at times, however. Currently I am fundraising for Team in Training, going to grad school, working full time, training, and trying to have somewhat of a social life. I rarely ever get home before 9pm EVERY night of the week. I have class Tuesday evenings, I have training with my team Wednesday evening and on Saturday mornings, and then I must fit time in for homework, my boyfriend, friends, family, training, and lets not forget I work from 8:30-5:30 5 days a week, and sometimes even 8:30am-9pm (which I am currently doing). I am currently exhausted. Yes, I love to race and train...it's my passion. But lets not get that confused with the fact that I HAVE to train to race, and like anything else in life, it becomes tiresome when one has so much going on. I think most people think because I love to train and love to race that I never get stressed because it's my hobby. They are terribly wrong. I am human, and at the moment I am physically and mentally cashed! If I had one more thing on my plate right now, I think I may implode!
So that being said...us triathletes never get a break, but it's the race that reminds us that we can never stop training. It's during the swim, the bike, or the run, when we may become tired and weak, that we remember why we get up at 5am in the middle of winter just to get a swim in, or why we feel guilty when workouts must be compromised due to life that sometimes gets in the way, and it's why racing becomes your life--it becomes part of your being. Even if I was offered a "spring break," I don't think I would take it.
And so my obsession begins...
After I completed my first triathlon, I took a couple weeks off and then hopped on the horse again. I had my sights set on Chicago. I signed up for Chicago around the same time I signed up for Naperville. I signed up for the sprint, but told myself I would do the Olympic--1 mile swim, 24 mile bike, 6 mile run--(Chad had put it into my head that I would be ready for an Oly). After Naperville, I didn't have it in my heart to do the Oly--I wasn't ready nor worthy of it. So the training continued. I picked up a new training plan, and worked on my swim A LOT. If that is what you can call it. My personal thank you goes to Chad right now for the endless hours spent in Lake Michigan simply helping me walk over the rocks and seaweed at Ohio Street Beach. You may ask, "Well did you actually swim there?" Ha...not until about my 5th time out there. I spent most of my time discovering and trying to get over my HUGE fear of open water. This fear paralyzed me quite a few times in the middle of my quarter mile swim to the first buoy. I would stand, cry, freeze, stop breathing, and search for Chad as he swam laps around me. For some reason anything in the lake that didn't belong there--garbage, rocks, drain pipes, bottles--scared the sh*t out of me. Swimming over the stuff was even impossible. I knew I had to get over this, as the Chicago tri was in Monroe Harbor, where you cannot touch the bottom at all, but yet you can see every damn thing at the bottom (which included wooden carts, bottles, cans, phones, and LOTS of rocks and seaweed). So thanks Chad for letting me swim 10 yards, stop, then keep going, only to stop again 10 yards later.
I spent my summer before Chicago drafting behind Chad training back and forth on the lake path on my bike. I spent many a miles alone plugging along and discovering that though I lacked a car, I did not lack road rage. Please do not walk 4 across on the lake path, and please do not let your children wonder away from you...you may hear me yelling at you. I spent days of watching Kona 2007 and crying tears of joy over how people can complete such a great feat, and I spent the rest of my summer watching Chad tirelessly prepare for his own Kona--the Madison Ironman in September. Training with Chad allowed me to tap into a side of me I never thought I had, and he continually taught me different training techniques, and how to better improve myself. Little did he, my family, my friends, or I know that this journey was in fact changing and improving me as a person, but all of that mushy stuff will come later in this blog. I ran a lot as well. I came to LOVE running and even ran with a Fleet Feet group every Tuesday after work. I began liking the group training. I used to hate running, but running out doors became my new affinity, and I began to loathe running on a treadmill. Nothing made me happier than running on the lake with the skyline of Chicago in front of me on a warm (but not too warm) sunny day. Chad kept telling me that ironman was in my future. I laughed.
A couple weeks before Chicago, I broke down. I was burned out. I was cashed. I was done. I hated triathlons. I would call Brian and mostly Chad crying and wondering "Can I do this?" The getting home at 9pm every night after workout out and a full day of work was killing me. I was always tired, never had time for myself that didn't include running, biking or swimming, and all I wanted to do was, well...NOTHING for once. I was ready to throw my bike into the lake and call it quits. At this point, my social life consisted of hanging out with the strangers at my gym and those I got to know in my DePaul Thursday spin class. I rarely went out, which was no big deal since drinking and partying were so far from my priorities. Training had become my priority, my love, my entertainment, and my fun. It was my world. I was feeling lonely, though. How much can one really train alone and keep the fire burning? It is a one man sport, but luckily I was never alone, and had people around me who believed in me and convinced me to keep going. So that is what I did.
Chicago came as quickly as Naperville did. I met Chad at his house at 3:15am on August 24th so we could ride down to T1 at Monroe Harbor together. It was very amusing to ride my bike down the street as the bars were letting out. I smiled at the fact that these people were going to go home and go to bed with memories of the booze infested night, and I was off to do a triathlon. My neighbors were actually still up and drinking on their front stoop when I stepped out with my morning breakfast ritual--oatmeal with banana mushed in it, and yogurt. When I went back in the house to change and walked back out in my tri gear, one said, "Are you kidding? You really are racing? You are crazy!" I left the house with my drunk neighbors clapping and wishing me luck.
I found myself in the 4th wave, starting at 6:15am. I was very happy to be at the beginning of the heap of 8,000 racers. I was not looking forward to getting swam over and punched and/or kicked in the face; thus my placement kind of helped avoid that. I took a last minute bathroom stop, and ran into my position. I hugged and kissed Brian and hugged Chad and gave him the "This is amazing and thank you, and I cannot believe I am here" eye, and walked into my respective wave. The swim began, but again I was reminded that I needed to train even more. I was okay at first, but then the anxiety kicked in. I couldn't breathe, my goggles kept falling off, filling with water, and I had to keep stopping to fix them. I felt paralyzed as I looked a full half mile to the finish. It looked like an eternity away, but I knew that giving up was NEVER an option, so I kept plugging along. I was lucky enough to have my cousin and Brian walking the ENTIRE swim with me, yelling "You can do it!" and "I love you come on!" and "You are awesome sweetheart." I don't think Brian and Justin know how much that meant to me, and how I will never forget that. I don't think I would have had any courage left at certain points if it weren't for them. I finally finished the swim (if you can call what I was doing swimming) after 27 minutes....27....11 minutes longer than my first triathlon. I climbed up the stairs and ran the brutal uncovered concrete path to my bike. My transition this time only took me 2:15--Thank you lace locks! I headed out onto lakeshore drive for the bike, and all I have to say is damn it Chicago fix the damn potholes on Lake Shore Drive! The bike went well...I finished in 48 minutes, which was 2 minutes quicker than my first triathlon. I enjoyed watching all of the beautiful bikes go by, and was jealous that I was stuck in one upright position. I think that is when I realized "I need a new bike." T2 took me 1:15, and I took off running. The run itself went well, but it was quiet. There weren't as many people cheering, but I was sure to keep cheering everyone else on. I stuck my hand out for high fives on the way back up north back from the 1.5 miles going south, and passed people telling them they were amazing. I had to pay it forward. The run was a tease most of the way since you could hear the finish line from a far distance, but it was a good reminder that I was almost there. I crossed the finish line, and smiled and was proud, and of course cried, but I had no one to celebrate with. My family was lost because they didn't expect me to finish as quickly as I did. I completed the race in 1:51, 3 minutes slower than my first race, BUT my swim was 11 minute slower, meaning I picked up the slack elsewhere. I was still very happy just to finish.
I finally found my family, and we were able to go watch some of the other swimmers and runners. I could watch forever. I loved watching the pros who made swimming look magical and so easy. I also loved watching those who looked like me--struggling, but still going. I cheered on everyone, and I even stayed behind with Brian and Justin to cheer on the VERY last 2 swimmers. Most of the crowd left the break wall already, but again, I had to pay it forward, so I stayed to tell them they were doing it.
After Chicago, I knew I craved more. I wanted to race, to push myself further, and to do that Oly. What I didn't know until I stepped back was that I was a new person. I was changed. My post season with my coach Kevin and my unconditional love of pushing myself into the ground would reveal my willingness to challenge myself and the person I used to be. After Chicago, I knew 2009 would be a big year, and as far as it looks and is going, it indeed will be.
I spent my summer before Chicago drafting behind Chad training back and forth on the lake path on my bike. I spent many a miles alone plugging along and discovering that though I lacked a car, I did not lack road rage. Please do not walk 4 across on the lake path, and please do not let your children wonder away from you...you may hear me yelling at you. I spent days of watching Kona 2007 and crying tears of joy over how people can complete such a great feat, and I spent the rest of my summer watching Chad tirelessly prepare for his own Kona--the Madison Ironman in September. Training with Chad allowed me to tap into a side of me I never thought I had, and he continually taught me different training techniques, and how to better improve myself. Little did he, my family, my friends, or I know that this journey was in fact changing and improving me as a person, but all of that mushy stuff will come later in this blog. I ran a lot as well. I came to LOVE running and even ran with a Fleet Feet group every Tuesday after work. I began liking the group training. I used to hate running, but running out doors became my new affinity, and I began to loathe running on a treadmill. Nothing made me happier than running on the lake with the skyline of Chicago in front of me on a warm (but not too warm) sunny day. Chad kept telling me that ironman was in my future. I laughed.
A couple weeks before Chicago, I broke down. I was burned out. I was cashed. I was done. I hated triathlons. I would call Brian and mostly Chad crying and wondering "Can I do this?" The getting home at 9pm every night after workout out and a full day of work was killing me. I was always tired, never had time for myself that didn't include running, biking or swimming, and all I wanted to do was, well...NOTHING for once. I was ready to throw my bike into the lake and call it quits. At this point, my social life consisted of hanging out with the strangers at my gym and those I got to know in my DePaul Thursday spin class. I rarely went out, which was no big deal since drinking and partying were so far from my priorities. Training had become my priority, my love, my entertainment, and my fun. It was my world. I was feeling lonely, though. How much can one really train alone and keep the fire burning? It is a one man sport, but luckily I was never alone, and had people around me who believed in me and convinced me to keep going. So that is what I did.
Chicago came as quickly as Naperville did. I met Chad at his house at 3:15am on August 24th so we could ride down to T1 at Monroe Harbor together. It was very amusing to ride my bike down the street as the bars were letting out. I smiled at the fact that these people were going to go home and go to bed with memories of the booze infested night, and I was off to do a triathlon. My neighbors were actually still up and drinking on their front stoop when I stepped out with my morning breakfast ritual--oatmeal with banana mushed in it, and yogurt. When I went back in the house to change and walked back out in my tri gear, one said, "Are you kidding? You really are racing? You are crazy!" I left the house with my drunk neighbors clapping and wishing me luck.
I found myself in the 4th wave, starting at 6:15am. I was very happy to be at the beginning of the heap of 8,000 racers. I was not looking forward to getting swam over and punched and/or kicked in the face; thus my placement kind of helped avoid that. I took a last minute bathroom stop, and ran into my position. I hugged and kissed Brian and hugged Chad and gave him the "This is amazing and thank you, and I cannot believe I am here" eye, and walked into my respective wave. The swim began, but again I was reminded that I needed to train even more. I was okay at first, but then the anxiety kicked in. I couldn't breathe, my goggles kept falling off, filling with water, and I had to keep stopping to fix them. I felt paralyzed as I looked a full half mile to the finish. It looked like an eternity away, but I knew that giving up was NEVER an option, so I kept plugging along. I was lucky enough to have my cousin and Brian walking the ENTIRE swim with me, yelling "You can do it!" and "I love you come on!" and "You are awesome sweetheart." I don't think Brian and Justin know how much that meant to me, and how I will never forget that. I don't think I would have had any courage left at certain points if it weren't for them. I finally finished the swim (if you can call what I was doing swimming) after 27 minutes....27....11 minutes longer than my first triathlon. I climbed up the stairs and ran the brutal uncovered concrete path to my bike. My transition this time only took me 2:15--Thank you lace locks! I headed out onto lakeshore drive for the bike, and all I have to say is damn it Chicago fix the damn potholes on Lake Shore Drive! The bike went well...I finished in 48 minutes, which was 2 minutes quicker than my first triathlon. I enjoyed watching all of the beautiful bikes go by, and was jealous that I was stuck in one upright position. I think that is when I realized "I need a new bike." T2 took me 1:15, and I took off running. The run itself went well, but it was quiet. There weren't as many people cheering, but I was sure to keep cheering everyone else on. I stuck my hand out for high fives on the way back up north back from the 1.5 miles going south, and passed people telling them they were amazing. I had to pay it forward. The run was a tease most of the way since you could hear the finish line from a far distance, but it was a good reminder that I was almost there. I crossed the finish line, and smiled and was proud, and of course cried, but I had no one to celebrate with. My family was lost because they didn't expect me to finish as quickly as I did. I completed the race in 1:51, 3 minutes slower than my first race, BUT my swim was 11 minute slower, meaning I picked up the slack elsewhere. I was still very happy just to finish.
I finally found my family, and we were able to go watch some of the other swimmers and runners. I could watch forever. I loved watching the pros who made swimming look magical and so easy. I also loved watching those who looked like me--struggling, but still going. I cheered on everyone, and I even stayed behind with Brian and Justin to cheer on the VERY last 2 swimmers. Most of the crowd left the break wall already, but again, I had to pay it forward, so I stayed to tell them they were doing it.
After Chicago, I knew I craved more. I wanted to race, to push myself further, and to do that Oly. What I didn't know until I stepped back was that I was a new person. I was changed. My post season with my coach Kevin and my unconditional love of pushing myself into the ground would reveal my willingness to challenge myself and the person I used to be. After Chicago, I knew 2009 would be a big year, and as far as it looks and is going, it indeed will be.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
My first ever blog attempt about my first ever triathlon
When I was young, I fought my parents tooth and nail when they tried putting me into any sport or activity that was remotely "girly." I cried my way out of tap dancing, and laughed at cheerleading. The only part of me that even celebrated being a girl were my feet--I played baseball in my first pair of heels from Payless, and I still have the scar on my knee to prove it. I played soccer from second grade through my freshman year of highschool, but then was forced to quit to maintain the C average I was holding and a part-time job. I played softball for a few years, flag football at recess, and loved stepping into a random baseball game at the park to show off my good arm.
When I was 19 I was introduced to the world of weight lifting,"cardio," protein, creatine, and a clean diet. I was in the gym for 2.5 hours a day for months. I ended up with a miniscus tear in my right knee and an obsession with being active everyday. I started doing yoga and spinning classes, and Tae Bo in my basement at my parent's house (I stopped whenever someone came down to do laundry because I looked ridiculous). After years, about 5 of them, I became tired of the goaless and relentless hours spent in the gym. Yes, I wanted to stay in shape and of course lose the few pounds turning 21 had given me, but I felt like something was missing. I stepped into the gym everyday with a plan, but that plan was giving me no fulfillment-no sense of accomplishment. I was a full-blown fulltime smoker for 10 years, so I never really got into running or anything that required me to be out of breath for long. For the health freak that I was, I knew the habit was a little contradictory to everything I was doing, but I didn't care.
Then I moved to Chicago when I was 23. I didn't have a gym membership for the first year I lived here, but I tried what I could to stay active, which mostly consisted of rollarblading 6 miles a day in the summer and "running" (run, walk, run, walk, run....then try to catch my breath). Then I heard about the Shamrock Shuffle in March of 2007, an annual 10K that like 30,000 people run at the end of March, so I signed up, still smoking and all. I trained here and there...I really didn't know what I was doing. Race day arrived, and I ran the 5 miles in an hour, and felt like crap afterwards, but hell, I LOVED the feeling of crossing the finish line. I was addicted to racing from that day forward. I didn't sign up for anymore races that year, but it was after that race that I found out my best friend Laura was training for the Subaru Series all women sprint triathlon in Naperville . I thought she was freakin' nuts, but I became intrigued. I knew I could not run long distances, so this event would let me dabble in three different sports. I let the thought go until the end of 2007 when Laura said she would be training for it again, and it was then that I agreed to do it as well--what the hell. I didn't own a bike, a bathingsuit that wouldn't fall off if I even moved from my back to my stomach on my beach chair, and I certainly did not own a pair of shoes that were even close to being designated as my "running only" shoes. I just knew I wanted to do this, but at the time, didn't know why. I just knew I wanted to feel the rush of crossing a finish line, and this would bring me there with the "Are you nuts?" factor attached.
I met Chad in November of 2007. He was getting ready to sign up for Ironman and had just lost over 100 pounds from gastric bypass surgery. I was just dabbling in the triathlon waters, and he was fully immersed. We are still the best of friends today, but he saw some fire inside of me when we first met that I guess I never saw...until now (I will expand later). From then on, he coached me on triathon jargon and introduced me to the world of swimming, biking, running, heart rate monitoring, energy gels, early morning workouts, and obsessively tracking my workouts on excel. I bought several triathlon books and logged onto sites such as active.com and beginnertriathlete.com--I was obsessed with learning as much as possible, but at this point had yet to sign up for my first tri, choose a training plan, or quit smoking.
January 1st, 2008 arrived, and I knew that base training was beginning on January 7th, and my main training for the June 22 Naperville sprint that I was to sign up for in February was going to begin in March. I had to do something about my smoking. I promised myself and my father that I would quit. I am happy to say that I have been COMPLETELY smoke free for 1 year, 1 month, and 10 days. Let's just say that when base training began, it did not take long for me to realize why I had quit smoking, and also how very long this journey to cardiovascular endurance would take. I look back in my binder of past training plans and journals, and realize that when I first began, I could only run for seven minutes...SEVEN...without stopping. Swimming 25 yards felt like someone was choking me, and bike for 45 minutes felt like an eternity. Today, I can swim 1.5 miles straight, run 6 miles (I am sure I am capable of more, just haven't tried YET), and bike for 60 miles straight (about 3 hours).
I completed my base training, and March rolled around very quick. I barely remember training, but I do remember laughing and ignoring much of the advice my friend Chad gave me. Who needs an expensive bike when I could purchase a hybrid? Who needed salt tabs and wet suits? Who needed to take it slow and steady? Who needed more than one pair of goggles? Not this gal. Yes, I was a beginner, and no I did not need the best of the best because what IF I hated the sport? What if after June 22nd I wanted to quit and say "Eff that!"? I didn't want to spend needless money on at the time what was needless equipment. I bought enough to get me by. I pushed myself a little too far too early, and burned out quickly. I cried, I wondered what I was doing and why many times, but I also remember NOT giving it my all. I remember training at times for the sake of training because I really didn't know what I was getting myself into. I certainly could not answer the question many people ask--"Why?" Since I didn't know why, I just kind of plugged along. I signed up for the Soldier Field 10 miler in May after getting really comfortable running, but was forced to sell my slot with a IT Band and hip injury that threw me into physical therapy for a couple of months ( I am still paying that damn bill). I had to keep my focus for the year--my goal was to become a triathlete, not complete at 10 mile run. My left hip was significantly higher than my right hip since my IT band and my muscles on the left side were so tight and wadded up into a ball under my pelvis. Goodstuff. I spent months strengthening my core, hips, and glutes, and suffered many bruise creating massages by my therapist. Not my idea of a great massage.
June 22nd, race day, arrived and I was PUMPED! I have pictures of my things set up the night before on my bedroom floor so I didn't forget anything. I wanted to save this journey forever. My dad and step-mom woke up early with me as I prepared for my long morning. We got to Naperville pretty early--around 5:15am-- so I could get the best possible spot in T1 as possible-which I did. Right on the end where I didn't have to even look twice in the sea of bikes for my clearly "This is my first triathlon" hybrid. I was to go off around 9:48 am in my wave of yellow caps (condom heads as someone I know refers to us as), however a storm rolled in, killing all the addrenaline I had. The race was delayed a full hour until the weather cleared, but my nerves kept building. Finally it was my turn to go. I knew that the swim was going to be difficult, but not as diffcult as it actually was. The swim was in a lake fed pool. I could not see one damn thing in front of my face. It was horrible. I only trained in a pool since the winter did not allow me to hop into Lake Michigan. I mostly walked the swim since it was a beach-style pool, and in the parts where I could not touch I doggy-paddled and did any stroke that allowed me to keep my head above water. My goggles kept fogging up, and I wondered many times to myself, "Can I really do this?" Surprisingly, the half mile only took me 15:59 minutes. Upon getting out of the water, I began running to T1. It was at that point that I said to myself "What the f*ck am I doing this for?!" That journey to T1 was my wake up call--train harder next time! I got to my bike and it took me 6:15 minutes to transition to getting on my bike and out on the road. The bike wasn't so bad. I almost used it, though, as my time to recollect when I should have been pushing it. One girl was spotted laying on the ground having passed out while riding her bike. She fell face first and scraped her entire front side on the way down--a reminder of what can go wrong. I finished the 14 mile bike ride in 50 minutes--a little slow! I returned to T2, and it took me 2:15 minutes to refuel and get on the road to run the LONGEST 3 miles of my life. I felt like the three miles took forever, but I NEVER walked once. Women were yelling "Good job, keep going!" and "You can do it," and "You ARE doing it!" This is what makes this my favorite race. The support is amazing. I finished the run in 29 minutes...much quicker than what I thought I was going to considering how very tired I was. I finished the race in 1 hour and 44 minutes, and in the top 48% of all of the racers. I was so happy after crossing the finish line that I began crying. I heard the song "Crazy" by Knarles Barkley, and I said to myself, "Yes you are crazy." But I did it. I met my family and friends at the finish line after stuffing my face with a banana, a bagel, and some water and gatorade, and cried in their arms. I NEVER thought I was capable of finishing something like this. If I looked back to the days when I first started working out, I NEVER would have guessed that I would be a triathlete.
From that day, the addiction began, and I fell in love.
When I was 19 I was introduced to the world of weight lifting,"cardio," protein, creatine, and a clean diet. I was in the gym for 2.5 hours a day for months. I ended up with a miniscus tear in my right knee and an obsession with being active everyday. I started doing yoga and spinning classes, and Tae Bo in my basement at my parent's house (I stopped whenever someone came down to do laundry because I looked ridiculous). After years, about 5 of them, I became tired of the goaless and relentless hours spent in the gym. Yes, I wanted to stay in shape and of course lose the few pounds turning 21 had given me, but I felt like something was missing. I stepped into the gym everyday with a plan, but that plan was giving me no fulfillment-no sense of accomplishment. I was a full-blown fulltime smoker for 10 years, so I never really got into running or anything that required me to be out of breath for long. For the health freak that I was, I knew the habit was a little contradictory to everything I was doing, but I didn't care.
Then I moved to Chicago when I was 23. I didn't have a gym membership for the first year I lived here, but I tried what I could to stay active, which mostly consisted of rollarblading 6 miles a day in the summer and "running" (run, walk, run, walk, run....then try to catch my breath). Then I heard about the Shamrock Shuffle in March of 2007, an annual 10K that like 30,000 people run at the end of March, so I signed up, still smoking and all. I trained here and there...I really didn't know what I was doing. Race day arrived, and I ran the 5 miles in an hour, and felt like crap afterwards, but hell, I LOVED the feeling of crossing the finish line. I was addicted to racing from that day forward. I didn't sign up for anymore races that year, but it was after that race that I found out my best friend Laura was training for the Subaru Series all women sprint triathlon in Naperville . I thought she was freakin' nuts, but I became intrigued. I knew I could not run long distances, so this event would let me dabble in three different sports. I let the thought go until the end of 2007 when Laura said she would be training for it again, and it was then that I agreed to do it as well--what the hell. I didn't own a bike, a bathingsuit that wouldn't fall off if I even moved from my back to my stomach on my beach chair, and I certainly did not own a pair of shoes that were even close to being designated as my "running only" shoes. I just knew I wanted to do this, but at the time, didn't know why. I just knew I wanted to feel the rush of crossing a finish line, and this would bring me there with the "Are you nuts?" factor attached.
I met Chad in November of 2007. He was getting ready to sign up for Ironman and had just lost over 100 pounds from gastric bypass surgery. I was just dabbling in the triathlon waters, and he was fully immersed. We are still the best of friends today, but he saw some fire inside of me when we first met that I guess I never saw...until now (I will expand later). From then on, he coached me on triathon jargon and introduced me to the world of swimming, biking, running, heart rate monitoring, energy gels, early morning workouts, and obsessively tracking my workouts on excel. I bought several triathlon books and logged onto sites such as active.com and beginnertriathlete.com--I was obsessed with learning as much as possible, but at this point had yet to sign up for my first tri, choose a training plan, or quit smoking.
January 1st, 2008 arrived, and I knew that base training was beginning on January 7th, and my main training for the June 22 Naperville sprint that I was to sign up for in February was going to begin in March. I had to do something about my smoking. I promised myself and my father that I would quit. I am happy to say that I have been COMPLETELY smoke free for 1 year, 1 month, and 10 days. Let's just say that when base training began, it did not take long for me to realize why I had quit smoking, and also how very long this journey to cardiovascular endurance would take. I look back in my binder of past training plans and journals, and realize that when I first began, I could only run for seven minutes...SEVEN...without stopping. Swimming 25 yards felt like someone was choking me, and bike for 45 minutes felt like an eternity. Today, I can swim 1.5 miles straight, run 6 miles (I am sure I am capable of more, just haven't tried YET), and bike for 60 miles straight (about 3 hours).
I completed my base training, and March rolled around very quick. I barely remember training, but I do remember laughing and ignoring much of the advice my friend Chad gave me. Who needs an expensive bike when I could purchase a hybrid? Who needed salt tabs and wet suits? Who needed to take it slow and steady? Who needed more than one pair of goggles? Not this gal. Yes, I was a beginner, and no I did not need the best of the best because what IF I hated the sport? What if after June 22nd I wanted to quit and say "Eff that!"? I didn't want to spend needless money on at the time what was needless equipment. I bought enough to get me by. I pushed myself a little too far too early, and burned out quickly. I cried, I wondered what I was doing and why many times, but I also remember NOT giving it my all. I remember training at times for the sake of training because I really didn't know what I was getting myself into. I certainly could not answer the question many people ask--"Why?" Since I didn't know why, I just kind of plugged along. I signed up for the Soldier Field 10 miler in May after getting really comfortable running, but was forced to sell my slot with a IT Band and hip injury that threw me into physical therapy for a couple of months ( I am still paying that damn bill). I had to keep my focus for the year--my goal was to become a triathlete, not complete at 10 mile run. My left hip was significantly higher than my right hip since my IT band and my muscles on the left side were so tight and wadded up into a ball under my pelvis. Goodstuff. I spent months strengthening my core, hips, and glutes, and suffered many bruise creating massages by my therapist. Not my idea of a great massage.
June 22nd, race day, arrived and I was PUMPED! I have pictures of my things set up the night before on my bedroom floor so I didn't forget anything. I wanted to save this journey forever. My dad and step-mom woke up early with me as I prepared for my long morning. We got to Naperville pretty early--around 5:15am-- so I could get the best possible spot in T1 as possible-which I did. Right on the end where I didn't have to even look twice in the sea of bikes for my clearly "This is my first triathlon" hybrid. I was to go off around 9:48 am in my wave of yellow caps (condom heads as someone I know refers to us as), however a storm rolled in, killing all the addrenaline I had. The race was delayed a full hour until the weather cleared, but my nerves kept building. Finally it was my turn to go. I knew that the swim was going to be difficult, but not as diffcult as it actually was. The swim was in a lake fed pool. I could not see one damn thing in front of my face. It was horrible. I only trained in a pool since the winter did not allow me to hop into Lake Michigan. I mostly walked the swim since it was a beach-style pool, and in the parts where I could not touch I doggy-paddled and did any stroke that allowed me to keep my head above water. My goggles kept fogging up, and I wondered many times to myself, "Can I really do this?" Surprisingly, the half mile only took me 15:59 minutes. Upon getting out of the water, I began running to T1. It was at that point that I said to myself "What the f*ck am I doing this for?!" That journey to T1 was my wake up call--train harder next time! I got to my bike and it took me 6:15 minutes to transition to getting on my bike and out on the road. The bike wasn't so bad. I almost used it, though, as my time to recollect when I should have been pushing it. One girl was spotted laying on the ground having passed out while riding her bike. She fell face first and scraped her entire front side on the way down--a reminder of what can go wrong. I finished the 14 mile bike ride in 50 minutes--a little slow! I returned to T2, and it took me 2:15 minutes to refuel and get on the road to run the LONGEST 3 miles of my life. I felt like the three miles took forever, but I NEVER walked once. Women were yelling "Good job, keep going!" and "You can do it," and "You ARE doing it!" This is what makes this my favorite race. The support is amazing. I finished the run in 29 minutes...much quicker than what I thought I was going to considering how very tired I was. I finished the race in 1 hour and 44 minutes, and in the top 48% of all of the racers. I was so happy after crossing the finish line that I began crying. I heard the song "Crazy" by Knarles Barkley, and I said to myself, "Yes you are crazy." But I did it. I met my family and friends at the finish line after stuffing my face with a banana, a bagel, and some water and gatorade, and cried in their arms. I NEVER thought I was capable of finishing something like this. If I looked back to the days when I first started working out, I NEVER would have guessed that I would be a triathlete.
From that day, the addiction began, and I fell in love.
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